Silk
by bittasummer
Summary: TASM 2012. Peter loves silk. Rated for Mature situations! Complete.
1. I

**A/N: **Bonjour.

Summary: Peter/Gwen. Set after the events of TASM 2012 movieverse. Peter catches Gwen in an intimate moment and things spiral from there. Rated Mature for sexual scenes. Smut, kind of. Inspired from Jessie J's Sexy Silk. What. A. Song.**  
**

Review, love, hate? :)

* * *

**Sexy Silk**

_Boy, I will be your sexy silk_

_Wrap me around, round, round round_

_I'll be your pussy-cat, licking your milk right now_

_Down, down down_

* * *

**Part I**

Peter Parker had grown used to a routine. He walked along the hallways of his school, ignoring most and only trying to avoid one. Gwen Stacy was the object of his affection, and while the affection was mutual, the object was unattainable, thanks to one genetically altered spider bite and the death of Gwen's father Captain George Stacy by none other than Peter's mentor, and Gwen's employer; Doctor Curt Connors. Things had been tense, and not in the good way. Peter passed by, and Gwen ignored him and they both couldn't help but feel the atmosphere change dramatically whenever they were near each other.

Peter kept to the Captain's wishes. He stayed away from Gwen, and the only contact they made was in class, or locking eyes in the hallway. It was nothing further than that. Gwen carried on somewhat normally with her life. She abandoned her Internship with Oscorp, and threw herself into more school activities; Debate Team, Midtown Science's Newspaper, soup kitchens for the needy, and the English Decathlon. It was a busy Senior year for Gwen, given that she was no longer using Connors' 'glowing' college recommendation and had to fill it with other references.

By night, Peter crawled New York City as Spiderman; the masked vigilante who saved innocents from muggings, assaults, and death every single week. For the most part, he went unseen, and the night of Captain Stacy's death was probably the last time Spiderman had been seen in such a spectacular way. He lay low, for the past couple of months, mostly because whenever he was spotted by a newspaper, they always mentioned Gwen's father, and he knew that Gwen collected every single newspaper that featured him. Having to reread your father's death over and over again wasn't healthy.

So, school by day, superhero by night. That was most of Peter Parker's recent recurring routine. There was another thing he was starting to do however. After he was finished scouring the city at night, he returned to his room, changed into his normal jeans and hoodie and ventured back out again. He went all the way up town from Queens to Manhattan, to Gwen's apartment. Only one time he went to her fire escape dressed as Spiderman, and he vowed he would never do that again. He climbed up easily and silently and just sat there, ducked under her window.

It felt like such a stalker move, and it probably was – but Peter couldn't bring himself to stop. He made it onto her fire escape and peered inside. She always kept her blinds up and he secretly couldn't help but think it was meant for him. Usually, he'd find her sitting at her computer, typing away, looking all smart and studious. Other times he'd see her sitting on her bed doing homework and biting her pen with deep concentration. Sometimes it just brightened his day to see her sprawled out on her floor as she tried to eat noodles and amend her seven year life plan at the same time.

Sometimes, he'd think that she knew he was there, but if she suspected, she never once looked towards the windows, or made any move to close the blinds. She carried on with her duties, playing background music and often closing her door right over so no one disturbed her. Peter remembered the time he just sat against the wall outside her window and listened to her phone call with Mary Jane Watson; Gwen's oldest and most casual friend. M.J and Gwen were rarely ever spotted in school together but that's because Gwen had so many activities and M.J was Head Cheerleader of Midtown Science's Cheerleading Squad the Panthers. They made time for each other outside of school, and more so lately ever since Gwen had lost her father.

On this particular night that Peter made his way over to Gwen's fire escape, he wondered what she'd be doing. It was just after midnight and surprisingly, her bedroom lights were off, but the blinds open. Peter peered inside. Her bedroom door was closed and her computer was off. It wasn't that puzzling, given the time, but Gwen usually stayed up quite late. Peter's eyes glanced over to her bed and if it wasn't for his grip on the bars, he would have toppled over. He froze to the spot, breathless. There Gwen was. Lying in her bed, the covers half flung to the ground. Everything seemed normal at first but Peter knew different.

He couldn't even blink and his cheeks grew hot. Her body arched upwards, her mouth parted open and her eyes were squeezed shut. Her feet moved up and down slowly, and her free hand gripped the nearby sheets. Her other hand was currently occupied – with herself. She was wearing a barely there camisole and tiny pyjama shorts that left little to the imagination. Gwen was... Peter swallowed. He suddenly felt awful; he shouldn't be watching _this_, but he couldn't look away. She was absolutely breathtaking in all her glory.

Watching Gwen's moving hand, and her gasping mouth and hearing her muffled pants of pleasure and want, Peter almost lost himself right there and then. All his blood rushed south, and his knuckles went white from his grip on the bars. What was he doing? Did she know he'd see this? Did she want him to see this? Peter's mind was blown. He let out a ragged breath himself, glancing down to his groin, where his awkward problem was getting bigger by the passing second. He closed his eyes, swallowing drily and trying to muster up some kind of self control.

When Peter opened his eyes again, he wished he hadn't. Her movements were getting faster and faster and her body was squirming like she was about to climax any second. He groaned, wanting nothing more than to make his presence known and ask her if she wanted him to see this. She must know he comes here, every single night. She's not stupid. What did she want to do? Torture him? Make him break his promise? Or maybe he was just reading too much into it. Maybe it wasn't about him at all. Maybe Gwen was just having a bad day and trying to make herself feel better. The worst part was his mind, telling him to go in and kiss her like there was no tomorrow.

Even the most evolved of genetically altered 'superheroes' could still be swayed by temptation and left helpless at the mere sight of a beautiful blonde, pleasuring herself so indecently. Peter tugged at his jeans, trying to make some more room before he completely suffocated his groin. Knowing that he loved Gwen, and that Gwen loved him, made watching this less... perverted. Granted, he was a hormonal teenage boy with raging growth changes every single day, but nobody but Gwen could get him this excited – and he knew it. Was he supposed to walk back home, with a raging boner jutting out? How pathetic. Peter scowled, licking his lips. What was Gwen doing now?

He focused his attention back on her away from his groin and his eyes widened. She was starting to grope herself with her free hand – everywhere. Her creamy silk skin looked so irresistible and her hardened nipples made themselves known through the thin tank top. Peter swallowed the lump in his throat. His fingers itched to dip inside his jeans and start rubbing himself in time with Gwen's own movements, that had become restless and more impatient. He wanted to relieve himself so badly, but he couldn't. Not like this; spying on Gwen in an intimate moment. He knew he had to leave.

Just as he turned away, her hips were bucking up into her air and her legs were spreading further apart. That's the image that was burned into his mind all the way down the fire escape. It took him longer than usual, given his hard situation but when he finally made it all the way down, he started to feel rational and logical again. He could think properly again. It took him twice as long to get home, but when he eventually did get back in just before 1AM, he slid into the bathroom, locked the door and turned on the shower. Hot, burning water trickled over his skin as he finally began to relieve himself.

**::**

Peter traipsed into school the next day, his mind obsessing over what he had witnessed last night. Gwen was pleasuring herself, in her bed, with the blinds open. It was almost unbelievable, had he not seen it himself with his own two eyes. He had no idea Gwen was even into that kind of stuff, which wasn't a judgement. She'd been the main star in his dreams for the past two months non stop, and she motivated him in all the right ways. He was just curious about what motivated her.

And then the strangest thing happens. He hears her boots before he sees her. And then she's suddenly standing in front of him, clutching his watch in her fingers. She doesn't look annoyed, almost unsure. He's the one who said they couldn't be near each other but even Gwen hasn't tried to break his promise yet either. Peter glanced down to his wrist and saw his bare skin. His heart quickens. His mind races. He had the watch last night so he must have accidentally left it behind in his haste to leave.

Gwen starts, "Um, I found this on the fire escape today, when I opened my window. You must have left it there months ago, but it still works. It's one sturdy waterproof watch." She holds it out to him and he takes it, dumbly. She doesn't even have a clue. Or does she? He can't even look her in the eye. All he pictures when he sees her is her writhing form, bending and squirming as her fingers work her core. It's intoxicating.

"Right," Gwen realises she's probably not getting a verbal response from him. "Well, nice watch. It kind of looks like the one my uncle just bought."

She's already walking away when Peter finally replies, "Thanks, it's the new Steadman one." How lame is that? 'It's the new Steadman one'? He already hates himself and is already internally insulting himself when Gwen suddenly halts, frozen to the spot.

"What?" she turns around, her eyes narrowed.

Peter frowns. Seeing her suspicious face is worse than facing a thousand robotic giants. Make that twenty thousand.

"The black Cubic Harvey Steadman Watch?" Gwen asks him, her voice laced with anger and disbelief.

Peter nods back, completely unaware of what he's done. Is she honestly angry because he bought a Harvey Steadman watch?

Gwen inhales, ready to kill somebody. She takes a few steps forwards and says, "The Harvey Steadman watch that was released a _week_ ago?"

Oh _crap_.


	2. II

**A/N: **Salut! Thank you for reviewing if you did!

Thoughts?! :)

* * *

**Sexy Silk**

_Boy, I will be your sexy silk_

_Wrap me around, round, round round_

_I'll be your pussy-cat, licking your milk right now_

_Down, down down_

* * *

**Part II**

Gwen inhales, ready to kill somebody. She takes a few steps forwards and says, "The Harvey Steadman watch that was released a _week_ ago?"

Oh _crap_.

"How the hell does a watch that doesn't exist yet end up on my fire escape from 'months' ago?" Gwen continues to glare at him.

Peter opens his mouth, already looking ashamed and apologetic when she interrupts him.

"Oh my god, you've been visiting my fire escape!" Gwen cries. Most of the hallway is empty because the bell rang five minutes ago, and Peter's still late.

Peter stumbles over his words to explain even as she's still ranting at him, "Gwen—Gwen, just listen to me—"

"Total invasion of my privacy!"

"It's not as weird as it sounds, okay—"

"Absolutely ridiculous! What gives you the right to tell me we can't see each other and then spy on me—"

"No, I just wanted to make sure you were okay—I worry about you—"

"Oh my god," Gwen suddenly pales. Her cheeks burn and her eyes lock on him. "Were you there last night?"

Peter opens his mouth but he can't say anything, and his eyes can't even look at her.

"Oh my god!" Gwen gasps, clutching her hand to her mouth.

Peter grimaces, "I swear I didn't see anything—" not _completely_ true.

"Did you hear me?" Gwen asks this time, which completely throws Peter off.

"What?" Peter frowns.

All of a sudden, Gwen grabs his wrist and pulls him into the nearest empty class room, slamming the door shut behind them. "This is so embarrassing! I can't believe you heard me—"

"Actually," Peter starts, about to tell her he didn't hear anything.

"It's not because I'm some sexually active slut," Gwen defends herself suddenly.

"I didn't say you were," Peter shakes his head vehemently, "Teenagers do it. Girls do it. It's normal. Masturbation is healthy in late teens, it's expected really," and now he's rambling again, "It alleviates tension and stress, helps induce sleep and promotes better concentration."

Gwen looks down, cheeks flaming awkwardly. "You have to understand Peter, you're the only guy I've ever even... You must feel so awkward, knowing that I... over you."

Peter's eyes widen and his throat struggles to function. "Uh, _what_?"

"Don't make me say it," Gwen snaps, looking torn again. "I didn't ever think you'd find out, much less sneak up onto my fire escape to spy on me!"

Is he hearing right? Did Gwen just confess to masturbating over _him_? His heart is beating rapidly and Gwen is avoiding his gaze and he can even hear her heartbeat in his eardrums. She's so embarrassed she can't even look at him.

He takes a tentative step forward, "You... do that while thinking about me?"

Gwen swallows tightly, "How many other 'Peters' do you think I know?"

And suddenly, he can't stop smiling. "You say my name," he whispers and he moves closer to her. Oh god. This must be heaven. Gwen does _that_ while thinking about _him._ She gasps his name, and writhes, and moans, and gropes everywhere, imagining that it's him doing that to her. He places a hand on her neck and pulls her face up to see his, "I didn't hear anything. A couple of minutes after seeing you... I left."

"A couple of minutes?" Gwen doesn't know why she's smiling back. He nods, grinning like an idiot as Gwen asks, "And what about you? It didn't... freak you out?"

"Nope."

"Did it get you, at all? The way you get me?"

"It got me," Peter whispers, "Hard."

Gwen couldn't help but let out an uncontrollable laugh, and Peter soon joined her.

"Wow, that sounded... wrong," Peter muttered, touching his eyebrow nervously.

"No kidding," Gwen was still laughing quietly. She smiled bashfully and looked up to him with wide eyes, "I still can't believe you saw that."

"Don't be embarrassed," Peter smiled back, "You looked beautiful."

Gwen sucked in a sharp breath, "I know you promised my dad you wouldn't see me, Peter, but he's gone, and you're gone and I just feel so alone. I am so alone. I miss you like crazy, so sometimes, I just let myself feel... like you're there, and it makes me feel less alone. Is that stupid?"

Peter shook his head, his voice hitching in his throat as he whispered, "No, it's not stupid. I do it too."

"Ignore your stupid promise," Gwen pleaded with him suddenly, "Please Peter. Please don't leave me alone, again."

Peter wrapped his arms around Gwen and pulled her into his warm embrace. He pressed his nose into his hair and smelled her lavender scent. She smelled amazing, like tropical fruits; airy and light.

"I'm so sorry, Gwen," Peter said quietly. He reached down, pressed a kiss on her cheek and then quicker than usual, he grabbed his bag and exited the empty classroom, leaving Gwen alone. She felt tears water into her eyes as she wrapped her arms around herself and wished that Peter had stayed a little while longer.

**::**

It's two weeks later when Gwen finally sees Peter again. The city's in chaos, again. She doesn't quite know what's going on, but she knows whatever the police are saying on the television is absolute bull. Apparently, an anomaly caused by a sudden change of altitude in the East River caused a tidal wave so powerful it was able to cause the Brooklyn Bridge to shake and almost collapse, if Spiderman hadn't of jumped in and saved everyone, again.

But Gwen's not your average New Yorker. Nothing short of a hurricane could cause an anomaly that powerful to create such a tidal wave that it would threaten the Brooklyn Bridge. She thinks it's ridiculous that everyone believes it as well. Everything's calmed down, for now, and all she can think about is going over to Peter's house and demanding to see him.

This happened every single time Spiderman went out. She sat in her bedroom, biting her lip and sighing with a troubled mind. She waited until the next day, to see him in school, just to make sure he was okay. She fretted with unease and sickness until she saw him the next day, walking and moving ably. He sported bruises and cuts and people started to talk. Flash even asked Peter to get him into whatever illegal 'Fight Club' he was a part of.

But rule 1 of Fight Club: There is no Fight Club. Literally. Nobody but Gwen knew the truth. Peter Parker was Spiderman, her Peter, her Spiderman, and he had such a low regard for his safety. By chance, Gwen is in her bedroom when her cell rings. It's M.J and she almost rejects the call, but the tidal wave has put her on edge more of late so she answers on the second ring. "M.J?" she asks.

"_Hey babe. Just checking to see if we're still on for Friday?"_

"Yeah. Cinema. Got it."

"_I hope you don't mind but I couldn't help but notice your Tumblr—"_

"How did you know the URL?" Gwen sighs. She has to change her Tumblr almost five times a month, but that's because of her brothers. Now M.J's aware of Tumblr? Fantastic.

"_I have skills! But I scrolled back and saw one of your previous posts. About how to get a guy to commit?"_

"Really?" Gwen cocked her eyebrow, "The city's undergoing some kind of weird secret alien invasion and you want to talk about my non-existent love life?"

"_Yes, obviously, duh, it's me. No but seriously Gwen, I'm not even asking for you to give me a name but I just wanted to pass on some sisterly advice, and you should be lucky."_

"Oh really?"

"_Yes, really. You should have came to me about this, I'm your best friend. I shouldn't have to read about your problems through your Tumblr."_

"I'll humour you," Gwen slumps onto her bed, shaking her head. Sometimes talking to M.J is just exhausting. "Proceed."

"_Thank you! Now, the only way I've ever gotten a guy to commit to me is... silk."_

"Silk?" Gwen raises her eyebrow. "Riveting. Do go on."

"_Hear me out. Silk equals sex. Spritz your hooch, light some candles and put on your sexiest silk nightgown that you own."_

"I don't own a sexy nightgown," Gwen was already bored, "I have a pale silk top."

"_That'll do. Now what you want to do is—"_

Gwen's phone buzzed, and she glanced at the screen. She was getting another incoming call: Peter. Gwen practically burst with worry. She said quickly to M.J, "Sorry, got to go," she hung up on M.J and cleared her throat as she answered Peter's call, "Peter?"

"_I wouldn't call if it wasn't—necessary."_

"What is it? Peter?"

"_I need to see you. I don't have anywhere to go."_

"Peter, are you hurt? Tell me."

"_I'm coming over."_

The dial tone clicked and Gwen swallowed slightly. He sounded a bit off on the phone, was he hurt? Or did he just need to see her as much as she needed to see him? Gwen knew she was being stupid, but she got up, fished around in her closet, pulled out her silk top and changed it for the simple camisole she was currently wearing.

She was pacing her room, worrying about everything, again, when he slipped inside her window. She immediately regretted wearing the silk top. Peter looked absolutely dreadful. There was no way he came over for anything other than help. He was wearing his normal clothes, and his backpack slumped to the floor.

"Peter!" Gwen rasped, helping him over to her bed. "What the hell happened? With the bridge?"

"It was a terrorist attack," Peter turned on his side, groaning in pain. "Domestic terrorist. Insane scientist, from North Korea. He set off a bomb in the East River, some kind of new bomb. Non nuclear, thank god. Worse though, if used with certain chemicals."

"Oh my god," Gwen looked down at his backpack, "Why aren't they telling anyone?" She already knew. 9/11 was bad enough, another terrorist attack on American soil would send people into a frenzy. It would be complete and total chaos. Plus, there would be an outcry for war with North Korea – no matter that this was the actions of one, it would be perceived as a territory threat. World War III would break out, and it would go nuclear. A lot of people would be killed.

She turned her attention back to Peter, "What happened to you?"

"A bit of shrapnel got lodged into my side when I was on bridge last night," Peter groaned, "I pulled it out when I got home and stopped the bleeding but the pain won't stop and the stitches I put in are breaking. I can't go to a hospital. If they take my blood, or look into my DNA—"

"I understand," Gwen grabbed his backpack and unzipped it, pulling out a first aide kit, gauze, bandages, a sewing kit and disposable stitches. She ruffled around, pulled out a black box and opened it, finding vials of clear liquid. "What's this?" she asked him.

"Morphine," Peter said hoarsely, gripping his side, "I confiscated it from a couple of drug dealers last week. Thought it might come in handy."

"Well, you're very lucky I still have some clean needles and syringes from my home-grown biochemical science project last Spring," Gwen said.

Peter yanked up his top and gripped his head in pain as Gwen rushed towards his wound. There it was, a piece of tiny metal shrapnel, still lodged into his open injury. That's why he wasn't healing. "Peter, you didn't get it all out!" Gwen cried. Blood was everywhere, and his fists were clutching the side of her bed painfully.

"Pull it out," Peter said through gritted teeth. "Now. Do it _now_."

Gwen gulped. "I think you better have the morphine first."


	3. III

**A/N: **Voeux! I'm planning on wrapping this up in the next chapter. It's just easier breaking it up into 2,000 word chapters, considering it's just a short story, and I'm used to fully fledged 4,000 word chapters. Let me know what you think? :)**  
**

* * *

**Sexy Silk**

_Boy, I will be your sexy silk_

_Wrap me around, round, round, round_

_I'll be your pussy-cat, licking your milk right now_

_Down, down down_

* * *

**Part III**

"How did you even get here?" Gwen mutters, mostly to herself. Peter groans in reply. She's ruffling through her closet after just pressing her computer chair under her door handle so her mother won't barge in unexpectedly. "Finally!" Gwen cries, returning from her closet with a plastic box that contained her unused syringes and needles.

"Peter," Gwen says, trying to pull his hand away from his wound. It's gotten worse. It's still leaking of blood. Peter tries to sit up, to crane his head down to see his wound but Gwen keeps pressing him back onto the bed. He doesn't listen, or really care any more. The pain has gotten so intense he's thinking of stumbling out of her window and throwing himself off her fire escape.

"Peter, what are doing?" Gwen cries as his body slumps from her bed to her floor. She has to straddle his legs to stop him from moving. His hand flays about and knocks her bedside lamp over, causing the light bulb to smash. Gwen prays to a God she doesn't believe in that her mother didn't hear that smash.

"Just get it out," Peter struggles to say through gritted teeth.

"Stay still," Gwen grimaces as she leans forwards and works quickly, delving inside his open wound and gripping the small metal shrapnel. She yanks, intending to pull the small object out in one but her horror intensifies when she realises that it's longer than she thought – it's lodged in deeper. Much bigger than it looks. Peter screams and presses a hand to his mouth to muffle the sound. "Peter, I'm so sorry," Gwen whispers. This is torture. She reaches down, presses a shaky kiss to his head and grips his shoulder before steeling her face to yank the metal out in one.

Another shriek erupts from Peter's throat and he instinctively moves; shoving Gwen away at the same time. His force is so strong that he doesn't realise that he's just launched her into the air, flying backwards towards her other wall. Before she crash into anything and hurt herself, Peter jolts up, shoots a web from his wrist device and brings her back, making sure she lands on her bed with a soft thump.

"Wow," Gwen gasps, her hair a mess. She wastes no time in climbing back on top of him, checking to make sure she got all the previous metal out. She did. Peter is lying back on the floor, making short frustrated breaths as he attempts to battle the pain. Gwen grabs one of the little drug vials on the floor and takes one of her syringes. Peter watches her as she transfers the liquid morphine from the vial to the needle and syringe.

"I'll be quick," she said breathless, grabbing his arm, and trying to find a vein. She yanked her hair ribbon out of her hair and wrapped it above Peter's elbow, tying tightly so the veins would become more prominent. She felt for a reliable one, looked at Peter and whispered, "Hold still," she pressed the needle into the chosen bulging vein and watched with a grimace. Peter groaned numbly as she pressed the syringe down, transferring the morphine from the needle into his blood. She pulled it out slowly when it was done and shoved it back into her plastic box, mentally noting to throw the needle away later.

Peter had a dazed look on his face suddenly, like he'd eaten one too many burgers and was about to hurl. Gwen had the kind of mind with a one auto drive manual. She couldn't think about anything else other than his bursting wound. With no resistance from Peter, she yanked his top over his head and grabbed his backpack and first aide kit over.

"Peter, how do you feel?" Gwen pressed the gauze against his wound to try to stop the bleeding. He looked completely out of it, which was weird, because morphine took twenty minutes to kick in. His reaction wasn't normal, and that ebbed away at her anxiously. "Peter?" she touched his cheek, "Are you sure that was morphine?"

"Pretty sure," Peter mumbled back. "I don't know, could have been Fentanyl. I can't remember."

"Shit, Peter, Fentanyl?" Gwen shook her head. Fentanyl was a heavy narcotic as well, but it kicked in after thirty seconds and was a hundred times more effective than Morphine, although Morphine did last longer in the long run. She sighed, pushed back her worrisome thoughts and yanked the stitches towards her with conviction.

She continued to put pressure on the open wound, trying to stop the immediate bleeding. "Peter, are you feeling this?"

He shook his head weakly, his eyes blurringly trying to see Gwen's sunshine hair. At some point, the pain and the effects of the medicine had started to numb together. He could feel her fingers, working his injury, but he couldn't feel the soul crushing pain that had crippled him as he stumbled over to Gwen's apartment earlier.

Twenty minutes later, when Gwen eventually managed to stop the bleeding, she carefully pulled out the old previous bursting stitches from his skin and put them in her bin. She waited a moment, just to make sure she had gotten all of the shrapnel out of his wound and then began to thread new stitches through his skin, joining one side of the open injury to the other and continuing downwards to where the open wound stopped, just above his hip.

Gwen tied the stitches and left him lying on the floor as she began to tidy up the bloodied gauze, and her bloodied bed sheets. She didn't know what she was going to tell her mother: 'Em, sorry, my period came in heavier this month'? That wasn't going to quit it. She might as well just throw the sheets out of the window and be done with it.

Gwen shoved the bloodied sheets into her laundry basket and turned back to Peter. She grimaced, bending down next to him and asking quietly, "Peter? Peter, how do you feel?"

"Not so great," Peter mumbled back, his eyes closed and his lips dry.

Gwen hooked her arm around his shoulders, eased him up gently and said, "Let's just get you off the floor," she helped him up as he hooked his arm on her bed and pushed himself up. Gwen helped him settle into her bed.

"You smell good," Peter muttered suddenly. "How do you _always_ smell good?"

Gwen laughed, as Peter reached out and his fingers went for Gwen's arm but he got her shoulder instead. His hand moved restlessly down her front, his fingers fisting into her silk top with urgency, pulling her closer.

"I love this top," Peter said dazedly, "Silk. I love silk. Why don't you wear it to school?"

"It's a pyjama top, Peter," Gwen blushed, pulling away. "Just go to sleep, Peter. I'll call your Aunt May and tell her you're staying for dinner tonight."

Peter closed his eyes, seemingly not hearing her. Gwen walked over to her table, picked up her cell, and proceeded to dial his home number.

**::**

Peter blinked his eyes open, looking around. He was in Gwen's bedroom, lying on her bed, shirtless. How the hell... His mind scrambled for memory and it eventually came back to him: crawling through her window, collapsing on her bed, and then her floor and the blood... was everywhere. He glanced down, saw his recently stitched up wound and thanked God that he had someone like Gwen he could still turn to.

Her window was open, the sky outside had darkened and her bedroom was empty, apart from him. Her bedroom door was still closed. Peter tried to move, struggling to sit up properly. His wound was finally beginning to heal, thanks to his Spiderman abilities, but it would still take a couple of days to heal completely.

Peter reached for the glass of water on the bedside cabinet and gulped it down, already hearing her footsteps out in the hallway. A moment later, her bedroom door opened and Gwen appeared, carrying another glass of water with two pills in her hand. She smiled at him, closed her door behind her and made her way over to him.

"Hey," she sat down on the edge of her bed, handing him the two white pills, "Co-codamol," she told him, "It's a compound analgesic. My father used to have chronic knee pain after a long day of stopping bad guys."

"I'd rather have the morphine," Peter said, smiling slightly as he took the Co-codamol from her and swallowed it.

"And that's specifically why you're not getting it," Gwen managed to smile back.

"Thank you," Peter said, suddenly serious. "I can't believe I put you in that kind of situation—And when I shoved you earlier—"

"Peter, you didn't let anything happen to me. You caught me before I hit anything," Gwen cut him off, "I'm not mad about that, so don't be either. You weren't thinking properly."

Peter looked away, glancing down at his wound. "So you stitched me up, huh?"

"After removing a bit of metal left behind," Gwen nodded back, "That's why you weren't healing. Once I removed that and stopping the bleeding, it was pretty basic first aide stuff from there. Do you feel pain?"

"A little," Peter licked his lips, "More stiff than anything else. How long have I been here for?"

"Eight hours," Gwen answered, "My mother was out taking my brothers for ice cream when you came in earlier, that's why they didn't hear anything. When she got back, I locked my bedroom door and tried to act normal, but I think she suspected something was up."

Peter's mind reeled. His aunt May was going to freak— "My aunt," he began.

"Already called her earlier," Gwen said reassuringly, "I told her you were having dinner here and studying late."

"I can't thank you enough," Peter took her hand suddenly, "Nobody but you would pull metal out of my disgusting wound, or stitch me up, or lie to their mother, or cover for me. I don't deserve any of this, considering I was such an ass last week. You know, with the whole..."

"Don't go there again," Gwen's eyebrows shot up slightly. Her mind burned with embarrassment every time she thought of Peter catching her in that intimate private moment.

"I wasn't trying to catch you naked or anything," Peter struggled to explain himself properly, "I mean it. I... miss you, all the time, and I guess checking in on you just meant feeling closer to you..? Somehow? I don't know."

Gwen swallowed. "It was the first time I've ever done _anything_ remotely like that—"

"Gwen, you don't have to justify anything," Peter shook his head, "It's your body."

"Yeah," she mumbled, reaching out to place her palm flat against his bare stomach. "But I was imagining it was yours."

Peter's breath hitched. His skin contracted under her touch. His muscles tensed and his throat went dry. "I don't deserve you, Gwen," he said slowly, looking away.

"I don't care what you promised my father," Gwen touched his cheek suddenly, "Or that you think you don't deserve me. I need you, Peter—"

Peter suddenly swung his legs to the side of her bed, gripped his wound and waited a moment before he slowly stood up.

"What are you doing, Peter?" Gwen stood up as well, "You might as well stay the night and leave early in the morning so my mother doesn't see you. There's no way you can make it down the fire escape. I'll tell your Aunt that you fell asleep on the couch and I didn't want to wake you."

"I can't do that Gwen," Peter tugged his damp bloodied top over his head.

"Why not?" Gwen hissed.

"Because if you keep touching me and telling me how much you miss me, I will break," Peter hissed back, his back turned to her front.

"Good," Gwen said defiantly, marching over to her open window and slamming it shut. She turned around, "If you want out of here, you'll have to move me yourself, or greet my mother on the way out of the front door."

Peter tilted his head at her, eyes torn and looking in disbelief.

"I love you," Gwen suddenly said, tears swarmed into her eyes. "For god sake, just stop avoiding me! My father died, and you weren't there, and I still can't stop thinking about you, so just put your stupid ego aside and just tell me that you love me back, okay?"

Peter crossed the distance and placed his palm on her cheek. "I do love you," he whispered, pressing his lips to her temple. Gwen sank into his embrace, wrapping her arms around his waist with extreme fragility.

"Kiss me."


	4. IV

**A/N: **Final one up! Thank you to everyone who reviewed. This one contains not too graphic sex, which I'm not totally happy with, but don't read if you're underage or uncomfortable with sexual scenes.

Au revoir!

* * *

**Sexy Silk**

_Boy, I will be your sexy silk_

_Wrap me around, round, round round_

_I'll be your pussy-cat, licking your milk right now_

_Down, down down_

* * *

**Part IV**

Gwen wasn't sure who initiated the kiss first but she felt their lips coming together, soft at first and then hard and passionate. It had been months since their last kiss. This was like coming home. Her chest heaved against his, her nimble fingers pulling his top over his head again. Peter slipped his fingers under her silk top, touching her creamy skin and flat stomach. Their lips moved together in a passionate tug of war, and at some point, Peter dominated the kiss by pushing his tongue inside and ravaging her mouth.

Gwen stumbled a little, only to be steadied by Peter. He spun them around, still kissing, and pushed her backwards onto her bed. Gwen moved upwards, grabbing Peter's shoulders and bringing him up with her. He pulled away, his eyes darkened with lust. Gwen stared back, feeling exactly the way he looked. How many times she had dreamed about this was quite ridiculous, to be honest.

"Gwen," Peter gasped against her lips.

"Shut up, Peter," Gwen captured his lips together, careful not to touch his wound. She let her senses take over, driving her hand down his back to feel all his tense and on fire muscles. Peter groaned into her mouth at her, pulling away to dive into her neck, and nip at her skin with desire. Gwen gasped, her breath hitching. She felt him, hard against her lower abdomen and bit her lip. This was definitely the furthest she'd ever gone, with anybody.

A part of her felt dirty, wrong. That small part of her that had been raised to not steal sweets, and to do her homework on time, and to study hard and work for everything she wanted. Then the other part of her – the bigger part – wanted Peter like she had never wanted anybody before. She fantasized about him daily, and her need to feel him was getting worse by the second. Sex was scary for a virgin, and Gwen was terrified, but it was a good kind of scary. The kind that thrills you down to your toes.

"I love this silk," Peter gasped against her neck, his fingers slipping under her top. He pushed up the fabric, reaching down to press his swollen lips to her pale flesh. He began to kiss just under her bra, and then made his way down her stomach, feeling smug that every time he went lower, Gwen practically squirmed and whispered his name, her fingers clenching the bed sheets in pleasurable frustration.

Her hips bucked when his lips reached her pyjama shorts. He still wasn't completely sure about this. For one, he didn't have a condom, and two, this was Gwen Stacy, the girl he was absolutely obsessed with. He didn't want to make her feel like she was being used. Peter's hand smoothed up her stomach as he said, "Gwen, we don't have to do anything. I'm here for you, forever. I'm not going to leave you again."

"I'm glad," Gwen rasped slightly, "But I need you, Peter. Please."

"I don't have any protection," Peter groaned with unease. His own situation was growing harder and more uncomfortable by the passing second.

"I do," Gwen smirked devilishly.

Peter's eyebrows perked up. He bit his lip, "Gwen, I've never done this before."

"Hearing you say that is hotter than I imagined," Gwen mumbled, kissing him slowly, "Same."

"_Good_," Peter replied, slowly bringing her top over her head, "I think I would have to kill any guy who had seen you naked."

"Including you?" Gwen said breathlessly, noticing how Peter's eyes had swayed to her bra.

"Definitely not," Peter leaned down and began to press kisses in the dip of her chest and then over the tops of her breasts and around her bra. Gwen clamped a hand over her mouth, trying to remain quiet. Her insides squirmed with lust and her core began to ache knowingly.

Gwen ran her hand down his chest, stopping at his jeans. She unbuckled them, pulled down the zipper and helped him shove them down his hips and legs. Peter continued to press kisses all over her, skipping over her pyjama shorts, and around the top of her thighs, where she moved urgently.

Peter's fingers curled over her pyjama shorts as he pulled them down, his eyes widening at the sight of her wet and skimpy pants. Gwen blushed manically, thankful the lightning in her room was dark. Peter leaned down, placed open mouthed kisses on her hips, causing her to arch upwards and moan at the same time. He moved back up her, unhooked her bra and swallowed with want at the sight of her pale creamy breasts.

"Hey," he whispered, noticing how Gwen was shifting uncomfortably, "What's wrong? We don't have to do anything."

"It's not that," Gwen buried her head into his neck. "I've never been naked in front of anyone before."

Peter couldn't help but smile at her adorable shyness. "Trust me, you're way better in real life," he touched her breast tentatively, enjoying the moan coming from her throat.

"Real life?" Gwen frowned, busy enjoying the sensations coursing through her body at his touch.

"You think you're the only one who likes to imagine things?" Peter mumbled back, kissing her breasts as his fingers began to press against her pants. Gwen grabbed his shoulders, moving against him with a burning need.

"What do you mean?" Gwen winced with pleasure.

"Well," Peter connected their foreheads together, "Sometimes I imagine I've pulled you into the janitor's closet in school," his fingers hooked around her pants and slowly slid them down. "And we're so loud that the janitor hears us, but we've locked the door and we can't stop, no matter what."

"Kinky," Gwen swallowed nervously, her heartbeat thudding with excitement and adrenaline.

"Tell me about yours," Peter kissed her lips, smiling at her when he felt her fingers pulling off his boxers. "Tell me what you think of when you..."

Gwen wet her lips, "I pretend that I'm studying and you happen to come in and we..."

"Where do we do it?" Peter asked her as he kissed her lobe and behind her ear.

"On the fire escape," Gwen blurted out, cheeks reddening. "At night."

Peter smirked, delighted at the very notion that she even thought about him like that at all. "What did we do?"

"Everything—" Gwen abruptly cut off as Peter pressed their naked bodies against each other, their naked bodies touching for the very first time. "Oh my god," Gwen gasped, biting Peter's shoulder lightly as he placed his hands at either side of her head.

"Are you ready?" Peter asked her.

Gwen nodded and reached out towards the first drawer of her cabinet. She handed Peter the condom and watched with darkened eyes as he rolled it on his hardened member, that was inches away from her throbbing core. Staying in eye contact the entire time, Peter positioned himself properly and pushed their foreheads together. Gwen hooked her legs around his, making sure not to touch his wound, which was completely forgotten about, either because he had super enhanced healing abilities or because given the nature of the situation, he just didn't give a shit.

Just before he pushed inside her, he stared into her eyes and she saw it. Past all the wanting, and lust, and need to be inside her, she saw _him_, and the way he was looking at _her_. This was more than just your average typical high school love story. This was real love. It was perfect. It was damaged and bloodied and broken, but it was theirs and in that moment, Gwen wouldn't have swapped the world for it.

Gwen opened her mouth, gasping and moaning until it reached the back of her throat when Peter finally pushed inside her. She felt her insides constrict around him, and almost fight against the intrusion. Pain coursed throughout her body, and Peter froze, staring down her mangled expression with one of guilt.

"I'll stop," he said breathlessly.

"No," Gwen clutched for him again.

"Gwen," he winced.

"Just give me a second," Gwen whispered, staring at him.

"I love you," he told her, stroking her hair.

"I love you," she said back. He pressed their lips together again, his tongue slipping inside and massaging her comfortably. "Move," she finally said, and Peter's hips bucked instinctively. Gwen gasped again, but Peter clamped his lips over hers and they kissed passionately through the extended discomfort and pain. It took a while, but they finally built up a pace and rhythm they were both at.

Skin on skin. Hands clutching hands. Lips on lips.

Gwen moved her hips up as Peter brought his down, and their bodies eventually began to blur into one. The sensations was mind blowing. Everything was heightened; touch, taste, smell. Their movements began to get more and more urgent, their limbs clutching at each other desperately for release. Peter didn't even care that his wound kept bumping against Gwen's flat stomach; it didn't even hurt any more. Their hot, sweaty, writhing bodies moved together in perfect team work unison.

Gwen leant her head backwards, completely lost in the moment with Peter. Peter was right; _this_ was so much better than imagining. At first Gwen thought she might be having a heart attack, but then the overwhelming need to breathe subsided and she cried out as her whole body tingled with the feel of Peter inside her. His touch was sending her nearly over the edge, taunting her to join him.

Every time she was beginning to come close to the edge, and fall off the mountain, he was pulling backwards, and torturing her body in the most pleasurable way. She knew they were getting closer when she felt Peter's arms tremble above her. There was absolutely no going back now. They were in this, together, forever. Come what may. Death and danger. Villains and crime. Science and evil. It didn't matter, as long as they had this moment, as long as they had each other.

Gwen came first, her body exploding with a kind of euphoria she had never ever experienced before. She felt like she was flying. This was like being on drugs. This _was_ drugs. Gwen gasped, her hair sticking to her sweaty face. Peter came shortly after her, pulling out quickly and collapsing in a heap beside her, his own body sticky and sweaty and his chest moving up and down with breathlessness.

They lay there, spent and tired, and satisfied. Peter peeled the condom off, threw it in the bin and cradled Gwen's naked body into his. They stared at each other in silence, smiling and acknowledging their connection. First times aren't perfect, they're painful and awkward and testing, and it had been all of that. It wasn't flawless, but it was euphoria, and it was theirs.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that," Peter whispered.

"Me either," Gwen smiled bashfully. She glanced to his stitches, "How's your wound?"

"That definitely makes up for my wound," Peter chuckled slightly. "I meant what I said earlier. I do love you, and I'm not going to leave you, ever again."

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to hear you say that," Gwen pressed her lips to his softly.

"I'm sorry for making you wait," Peter captured her lips passionately, grasping her head.

"Easy bug boy," Gwen quipped. "I only have one condom."

Peter couldn't help but let his eyes wander down her naked body. She was absolutely perfect, whether she knew it or not. "Shame," he pursed his lips with a smirk, "But there's lot of other things we could do that isn't sex."

Gwen rasped, "Do explain, Mr. Parker."

Peter sat up slightly, "Do you have any other silk?"


End file.
